Casual
by a-violet-by-a-mossy-stone
Summary: This is a 30 day word prompt fic. I don't know what happened, but here's my first attempt at PWP, and my first Wincest fic. If you're looking for romance, you won't find it here. I don't particularly ship Wincest unless it's very well written, but hey, nightblogging does things to you.


Dean pushed Sam roughly against the wall and nipped at his lips with sharp, swift kisses, tangling his calloused hands in his younger brother's shaggy hair. Sam gave as good as he got, one leg up around Dean's hip, grinding their bodies together in slow circles. Dean growled when Sam bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood, and dragged him away from the wall to throw him onto the bed.

Dean crawled up to suck and bite at Sam's exposed neck. Buttons flew as Dean destroyed yet another of his horrendous plaid shirts, but Sam didn't seem to care, pulling Dean's t-shirt over his head with equal violence. He moaned as Dean clawed down his chest, leaving red lines down the smooth skin. That was it. Dean ripped off Sam's jeans, shucked out of his own. Neither of them bothered with boxers anymore, they just got in the way. Dean shimmied up the bed so his head rested between Sam's thighs, and gave his thick cock a slow lick. Sam moaned again, loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but they could really care less what people thought of them anymore. Dean sucked Sam's cock into his mouth in one fluid, unexpected movement, and Sam gasped, pulling at the short spikes of Dean's hair. Dean swirled his tongue around the head of his brother's dick, pressing his tongue flat against the underside, sucking him down deep and then tonguing the slit, always moving. His head bobbed up and down, Sam tried to keep his eyes open to watch, but they kept drifting closed as he drew closer and closer to his orgasm. "D-Dean, now. Fuck me now!" Sam gasped out, trying to simultaneously push him away and pull him closer, pull himself deeper into that hot wet mouth, past those perfect pink lips… Dean shook his head and kept sucking, suddenly unsheathing his teeth to graze lightly along the sensitive flesh. Sam let out a low, guttural groan and exploded into Dean's mouth, no time to give a warning, but Dean swallowed every drop of his brother's bittersweet seed without comment. Sam's eyes were wide as he watched Dean lick his lips, catching the drops that had landed on his lips. Sam could feel himself hardening again, and when Dean leaned down to run his tongue across Sam's lip, smearing the leftover cum across his tongue, he couldn't bite back the soft moans.

Dean grabbed a bottle of lube off the nightstand, knocking the standard hotel bible to the floor as he did. "_Oh the irony",_ he thought, flipping the lid up and squeezing a generous amount into his palm. He slicked up his cock, and somehow got even harder from the cold, smooth sensation. Sam had flipped over, he knew how things went, and he knew what he wanted. His cock hung heavy down to the mattress, the head almost grazing the sheets. He bucked his hips back as Dean slid the first finger into him, still so stretched out from the night before that he was taking two fingers in no time, moaning and fisting the sheets as Dean grazed the tiny bundle of nerves that made him see stars. Dean removed his fingers and Sam groaned quietly at the loss, but knew that any second…

Dean slid fully into him, not careful or gentle or sweet. He paused once his cock was fully sheathed in the tight, hot space. Sam inhaled deeply and nodded, and then Dean was off, pumping into him like it was the best thing he had ever felt, the slapping sound of flesh on flesh filling the room, the heavy scent of sex in the air. Sam cried out every time Dean struck his prostate, every thrust felt as though it were unraveling him, unspooling his very being from the inside out. Dean snapped his hips faster as he drew closer to his climax, reaching around to pump Sam's cock in time with the rough thrusts, nails digging into his brother's hip. Sam convulsed and screamed as he came for the second time, cum flowing over Dean's hand. The pulsing tightness along with the sounds Sam was making pushed Dean over the edge, and the corners of his vision blurred. They fell to the side like that, completely spent, Dean's limp cock sliding out of Sam, a tangle of limbs on top of the destroyed bed.

There was nothing romantic about it. Casual sex was all that got them through the dry patches when it was just too much work to sweet talk a girl in a bar. More and more lately, Dean wouldn't even bother going to bars. He just stopped at a liquor store on the way into town for a bottle of whiskey and a couple six packs, he and Sam drank in front of the TV in the motel room, and then they had headboard-thumping, furiously rough sex. They always fell asleep in their own beds.

But tonight, Dean was just beyond exhausted, from too many nights of not enough sleep and too much booze, worn out satisfying Sam. He rolled over and before he knew it, he was asleep.

The next morning he felt something heavy on his legs, something warm against his chest. Dean cracked open one eye, clouded with sleep, and saw a very long leg draped across his lower body. He turned his head a fraction and realized it was Sam's moppy hair that was tickling his nose, his little brother fast asleep, curled into his side, head resting on his chest.

And for some reason, he didn't mind.


End file.
